


Worth a Thousand Words

by Drazyrohk



Series: Drifting [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was one way to combat a terrible day...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth a Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> Going through a bit of a dry spell with my writing. This was good practice.

‘You work too hard,’ they told him. Ratchet would just grit his denta and make some quip about saving lives. 

‘When’s the last time you recharged?’ they asked him. Ratchet would assure them it was none of their business.

‘Your engine’s sounding a little off, when’s the last time you had a check up?’ they fussed. Ratchet glared and threw wrenches and cursed and ignored them. 

Right now, in this moment, none of them mattered. 

Right now, with the solvent in his private wash racks raining down upon him, he was working as hard as he could for the only mech that he gave a real damn about. 

Right now, recharge could wait, and it would be far sweeter once release had claimed them both. 

Right now, his engine snarled and was answered with the throaty growl of his partner’s and there was nothing at all wrong with either of them. 

“Ratchet...” Breathless, static laced, that voice was more satisfying than sleep or Energon. “Oh Primus below, Ratchet!” 

Hissing, Ratchet dug denta into a sensitive finial and garnered a shrill noise that was half protest, half pleasure. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He said in a hushed tone. “Especially like this.”

Brilliant blue optics looked weakly up at him, sharpened denta bared in an open, panting mouth. Ratchet’s mouth turned up in a slight smile and he pushed harder just to watch those optics flare, just to hear another cry escape that mouth. 

“Aah!!” Thighs tightened around Ratchet, servos gripped more firmly. “Y-yes! Just like th-that!” 

“I’ll take you as hard as you want me to if you’ll just keep calling my name, Drift.” Ratchet whispered, his hips driving forward again and again. Drift rocked into the wall, helm thrown back so not a single sound he made was muffled. “You have no idea how much I needed this tonight. Needed you. I had an awful day.” 

Drift had no words, but he grunted and gasped and moaned and Ratchet loved every little noise he made. Drift’s grip tightened again and he cried out, long and drawn and full of need. He arched, his valve clenched around Ratchet’s spike and the medic leaned in to press his mouth into his lover’s neck. 

“I’m s-sorry!” Drift panted. “Sorry your d-day was awful. Oh Ratchet! You feel so good!” 

There was something so perfect about having Drift writhing so wantonly against him. This gorgeous, powerful mech reduced to a panting, pleading wreck... Ratchet wrapped his arms around Drift’s waist, pulled him tight to his chassis and pressed him against the wall as hard as he dared. Each sharp thrust of his hips made Drift cry out, Ratchet’s charge soon burning so hot he couldn’t hold on. 

“Aa-aaah!!” Drift’s optics widened, white and sparking, and he overloaded while shouting Ratchet’s name. Ratchet pushed in to the hilt, let Drift’s calipers hold him there and emptied himself into his lover’s body with a weak shudder.

Regret. That shouldn’t have been the first thing he felt when he came back to his senses, but there it was. He had been rough. He had been forceful. Even if Drift hadn’t told him to stop, even if he hadn’t protested, Ratchet had taken all his frustrations out on his partner. 

He nuzzled Drift’s neck again and pulled away, the swordsmech making a sound of protest. “I’m sorry.” Ratchet said, Drift’s optics dim as he looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“Why are you sorry?” Drift slurred, wrapping himself around Ratchet again. “That was amazing. I’m... having trouble making thoughts and stuff.” 

Ratchet smiled slightly and scooped Drift up in his arms, giving him a short, sloppy kiss before moving them out from under the spray of the wash rack. It took a little flailing, but Drift managed to turn off the stream of solvent before being carried out of the room. 

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Drift protested.

“So are you.” Ratchet said with a chuckle, ignoring the wet footprints behind them and taking Drift to his berth. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“The only thing you’re hurting is my feelings.” Drift arched a brow at him. “Why do you have to spoil a perfectly incredible frag by apologizing, Ratchet?” 

“Bad day, remember?” Ratchet settled down on the berth with him, the two of them easily tangling legs together and pressing into one another’s frames. 

“I believe the word you used was ‘awful.’” Drift murmured, rubbing his hand along Ratchet’s side. He met the medic’s optics and his expression softened. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” Ratchet grunted. “I really don’t.” 

“Then we won’t.” Drift wriggled a little closer, hand still moving. “Don’t worry about me so much. I’d let you know if you were doing something wrong.” 

“Yeah.” Ratchet said, though he didn’t believe that was always the case. Most of the time, Drift was terrified that HE was the one doing things wrong. 

Drift leaned up and kissed him, Ratchet ex-venting slowly and trying to smooth his guilty, uncomfortable field as he returned the gesture. 

“I want more.” Drift’s voice was low, hoarse, and Ratchet felt his frame heating. “I don’t want you to think about anyone else but me tonight. Let me take your mind off everything that’s bothering you.” 

The hand on Ratchet’s side moved to the medic’s thigh, then slipped between his legs. 

That sounded like a plan. It sounded far better than anything else that had been said to Ratchet all day. 

“I think I can do that.” Ratchet growled, shifting atop his lover. Drift’s heat welcomed him in once more and the sound that escaped the swordsmech’s throat made him harder. He took his pleasure, gave Drift plenty in return, and for the rest of the night the two of them together were the center of his world.

**Author's Note:**

> Take note that while this is in the same series as the other two fics I've written previously, they're not all taking place chronologically.


End file.
